


Crazy Abe Hobbies

by bookeater_otaku, Shiroyuki9



Series: A Place to Belong [2]
Category: Hellboy (Movies), Hellboy - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookeater_otaku/pseuds/bookeater_otaku, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiroyuki9/pseuds/Shiroyuki9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place belong companion fic. </p>
<p>Abe is driven insane by boredom and will do anything to alleviate it... and thus driving everybody else crazy along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Hellboy doesn't belong to us 
> 
> Rating: Teen and up ... just because.
> 
> Oh! And before I forget, this is “talking”, this is 'thinking'. Have a pleasant read.

 

 

Hellboy – A place to belong side-stories

Crazy Abe Hobbies

Prologue

**'Of course, it is very important to be sober when you take an exam. Many worthwhile careers in the street-cleansing, fruit-picking and subway-guitar-playing industries have been founded on a lack of understanding of this simple fact.'**

**( _Moving Pictures_ )**

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

**Hi! I am the Narrator, professional animator, herald of quote, commentator, storyteller, D &D game master and barman-juggler. You may know me from my previous works such as my most recent one the famous internet sensation the story of “Hellboy: A place to belong” or the movie “Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron” (I was filling in for Matt Damon) or that condom commercial with the horse, remember that one? Hahaha.**

 

**We are here today to delve into the uncertain time where insanity fuelled boredom ch** **allenged Abe Sapien, fishman ‘extrordinaire’ as he and his friend, the star-crossed lovers Hellboy and Liz Sherman, were stuck in England after quitting the BPRD and noting and I mean absolutely noting interesting was happening.**

 

 **Wait w** hat? You don’t what I’m talking about? (Oh great, now I lost the booming voice.)

 

Really?

 

Checked the title yet? What about the summary? Surely if you decided to read this particular piece of fiction it must mean that you already have knowledge of the primary storyline this anthology is derived from?

 

No?

    

Well shnuks… Then I strongly suggest that you go read A Place to Belong, by Bookeater-otaku and Shiroyuki9, where,as mentioned earlier, **I had** the pleasure of being the narrator.

 

But for those of you who lack the time and/or the will to do so, here are the things you must know for THIS anthology: 

 

After defeating Prince Nuada and his golden army, Hellboy disenchanted with the way the B.P.R.D. was being a dick, combined with his newly found fatherhood and the media nightmare brought by his reveal to the world, choose to quit and start building a new life for his family somewhere.

 

At Hellboy suggestion, they moved to the old cottage of the late Harry Middleton, a dear friend of professor Broom, situated in England. It was an out of the way little residence where they could lay low for a while and make themselves forgotten from the public, with very little success. Reporters, paparazzi and governmental goons from various country kept pestering them, limiting their freedom and movement.

 

Klauss stuck around for a while, but previous engagement and responsibility made him return to the B.P.R.D. but wished his new friends a good life and was gone without any ill will between him and the unusual family.

 

He came back a few months later to convince them to rejoin the B.P.R.D. because they weren’t faring too well without them.

 

That said, they came back, negotiated a new contract with the Bureau and got thing going again.

 

So far so good? Everybody’s following?

 

Ok, but in between the time Klauss went and came, time passed and the strange would be family had to deal with being cooped up inside their property for an extended period of time; and with Liz being the only to be able to claim a certain anonymity, Abe had to rely on her to bring entertainment to the house.

 

Yes. Entertainment. Abe Sapien is after all an intellectual with many PhD under his belt along with a certain mastery in many fields; he read many books a day to keep his superior mind from stagnating. But here in the middle of nowhere, without his precious library or the B.P.R.D. management to provided new material for him, boredom was threatening to turn him completely barmy.

 

The ensuing trials and errors made to combat this dreadful enemy, dubbed “The Great Commotion” by Hellboy, consisted of many little events where Abe tried many things with a varied degree of failure.

 

Come discover with us the numerous of hobbies Abraham Sapien tried during “The Great Commotion’’? What he did to make such an impression on Hellboy and Liz in that brief moment of insanity? Besides knitting?

 

These stories are a compilation of the most memorable and ridicule try that drove his housemate up the walls.

 

 Enjoy.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro: hi everybody *^_^*
> 
> This is an idea that's been floating around for a couple of years ... well, ever since we mention the disastrous attempt Abe did at knitting or was it before ... it’s not important. What is important is that while we did end up picking “knitting” for the fic, plenty of other hobbies were discussed and we came to a common agreement: WE NEED TO WRITE THIS.
> 
>  
> 
> Book:  
> I am not sure either where this one crawled from but it’s been around in my head for a long time. I basically just wanted to see Abe doing different hobbies because he is bored. In the comics, when Hellboy disappeared, Abe was going to quit the BPRD, but it lifted the question: What will he do with his time now if he quit? The answer that came to me was that he is going to be bored out of his skull.
> 
> Well I hope you will have fun reading. See ya!


	2. The Rubik’s cube, Part one.

 

Hellboy – A place to belong side-stories

Crazy Abe Hobbies

Chapter one

**For an intellectual, nothing is a more slippery slope toward cultural suicide than boredom.**

**(Abraham ‘Abe’ Sapien)**

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

The Rubik’s cube

Part one.

 

Abe Sapien knew and always said he wasn’t good at solving problem. Three decade and he only completed two sides of his old Rubik’s cube.

 

And now he had a new one. Liz found it in town in one of her supply run. Found it in a garage sales she said. She got it as a joke, so he could distract himself.

 

An old toy someone played with twice, gave up and probably never touched again.

 

Brand new with all the color mixed up, not even as side halfway done.

 

Three decade it took him to complete two sides.

 

Three. Over thirty years.

 

And he would have to begin anew.

 

Abe looked around for something else… Anything… else.

 

He already went through every single book in the house a dozen times and Liz wasn’t going to the library until Friday. Therefore nothing different until then and they’re no new magazine before next month. Honestly, he didn’t care if she brought back novels, _bandes dessinée_ , biography, comics, manga, magazines, manuals or even a few pamphlets so long that he got something to read.

 

All those little squares of colors, taunting him... for three decade.

 

That feeling when you worked at something for so long, putting time and effort in it. A project you keep on the side for grey afternoon that you keep telling yourself that one day you would finish it and it will be the most glorious feeling you do…

 

Then you lose it. Gone forever. You even forget about it and move on with your life. But somehow, the same thing land in your laps again and then when you have it in front of you…

 

You ask yourself: Do I really want to start from scratch again?

 

To put all the sweat, tears and blood in what is theoretically the same thing again?

 

THAT feeling?

 

…

 

 

He wasn’t that desperate.

 

He could go swimming again. One of the advantages of a Fishman living beside the sea…

 

Or maybe there was another rerun of Coronation Street on the TV he could watch. Again. And after that intellectual abyss, he would just hang himself afterward in regret and Hellboy and Liz would have to stop him again…

 

‘Sound fun. Let’s go with that.’

 

And the Rubik’s cube just sat on the counter for a while.

 

**Dun dun duuuunnnnn!**

 


	3. The beginning of the End

 

 

**'The current state of knowledge can be summarized thus: in the beginning there was nothing, which exploded.'**

**(Lords and Ladies)**

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The beginning of the End

Or

The book for dummies you didn’t knew you needed

 

 

Elizabeth Sherman had to get out of the house.

 

Being a few months along in her pregnancy, the only woman in the house with nobody new to speak to while being cooped inside the house with to two big teenagers was enough to make her think of murder.

 

So to resume, it was a little... stressful.

 

When she spoke with Hellboy about this, he joked that she should take it as practice for their future children.

 

She almost went nuclear and blows up the house. Almost.

 

She was getting better and better at controlling her occasional self combustion incident. They practically never happen anymore and she was way more in control of the fire now that she was pregnant for some unknown reason.

 

Abe had a few theories but she didn’t care. All that counted was that her children were healthy and that she was with Hellboy.

 

But when thing got too much, Liz took the habit to go to her happy place.

 

Namely, a rocky outcrop way outback in the ward where there was nothing to burn and she could sit to calm down and Hellboy engraved into the rock, ‘The happy place’. It was also the only place in England that you could procure fresh lava...

 

‘Happy place my foot’.

 

So, Liz got to take a few curative rides to the few nearest towns to let out some steams and do some groceries, shopping and various errands.

 

... She was being a little harsh on her guys. She wasn’t the easiest person to be around and they were so accommodating most of the time... And Hellboy... Her man, her rock in all of this... He was not so bad most of the time.

 

It was probably karma taking revenge on her for when she had all those mood swing in the early stage of the pregnancy... They were the one who had to go the Happy Place sometime...

 

But Abe... The, oh so ever, helpful Abe... He was the one who was taking this isolation the worst. Liz thought in stemmed from being cooped alone in a water tank in an abandoned hospital basement for so long...

 

The fact that he took longer and longer swims in the sea, she was worried that someday he would just go and never look back... So she almost daily went to town to de-stress and get something him to read or watch.

 

First she opened an account at the local library for each of them and then brought as many books as possible back home, where her friend tore through the material like water for a thirsty man at an oasis. But after a few months or so, the little’s sources available in these little towns around seemed to dwindle to practically noting and they were back to square one until the new arrival each month.

 

But still, she came to the library in hope to discover something she may have overlooked in her search of knowledge for her friend. Because if she didn’t find something, she would strangle him with her bare hand if he began to moans and complain again... about anything it seemed these days.

 

Browsing through the magazine counter, pondering if the time were desperate enough that the only thing left here were teenage girl magazine and if Abe would be interested in the latest boy band or how to choose is make up for the summers.

 

Liz little bout of insane laughing at the thought of Abe with makeup brought to her the attention of the librarian, a sweet little portly lady, who had three distinctive quality Liz greatly appreciated, namely a complete disinterest of what going on in the world beside new books, thus being completely obvious to the celebrity status Liz was carrying, didn’t really interacted with you unless the books were due to be returned and was amicable enough when you followed the library rule that said: Be quiet or else.

 

The ‘Or else’ wasn’t specified and Liz suspected that maybe there was a score of corpses downstairs hidden in the archive of poor people whom last thing they heard was ‘chuuuuuut’.

 

Looking at the librarian putting away book on the shelves from her little kart that had a squeaky wheel, and from the look she was giving it, it would soon be joining the bodies downstairs. ‘Maybe...’ Liz thought.

 

Approaching the scourge of anything noisy, Liz was unsuspectingly going to unleash a calamity upon her household she could never have suspected and thought back to this day and wished she could say to her younger self to keep her mouth shut and walk pass like nothing was going on.

 

‘’Excuse me miss...’’ Liz began, not bothering with Madam because anyone foolish enough to ask her hand in marriage would have needed to do it with hand-sing language and would still be berated on being too loud.

 

The librarian turned and looked at her interloper like a strange animal with two head had come up to her. ‘’... Yes?’’ she said, barely on the hearable spectrum, but the exasperation contained in it was probably loud enough to collapse the wall of Jericho. For the librarian, her job would be perfect if not for the fact that people read the books.

 

Undeterred, Liz continued on ‘’ I was wondering if you could help me, I...’’

 

‘’Third row, shelve F, look into the health and care section.’’

 

“... What?’’

 

“The books on pregnancy. Third row, shelve F, look into the health and care section.’’ She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and looked at Liz as if she did not know what she was afflicted with and from the tone of her voice, baby were as bad as little animal, space shuttle launch and construction work on the noise scale.

 

To her credit Liz did not even lost her smile at the small indignation. The woman probably prided herself on knowing right of the bats what a customer wanted just by looking at him, so the idea of immolating the place out of spite was squashed as it reared its ugly head. Books had ridicule low ignition point (451 Fahrenheit) to Liz dismay and she did not want to lose her easiest source of distraction for Abe. “Ah... No... I was wondering if you could recommend me something for my friend to read. He is ... confined home due to health reason and was wondering what he could start to read next to occupy is time.”

 

The silence stretched longer and both women continued to look at one another in a standoff to see in one of them would break off and go away. Liz wondered if she had spoken in the right language when the librarian began speaking, clearly perplexed that anyone would ask for her opinion and to her great reluctance, it fall into her job task. “It sounds like he has a lot of time on his hand. What sorts of thing does he like to read?”

 

“Oh... Anything really. Any genre or style would do, he is not picky. And the problem lay here, he as read a lot already so I don’t know what to get him anymore; it seems he has already read everything I could think of. Novel, biography, encyclopedia, magazine, comic, BD, manga, Fantasy, Horror, Science-Fiction, Romance... all of them. He is up to date with almost every books series even the really obscure one’’. Especially the really obscure one, knowing their previous jobs. And Horror, lots and lots of horror stories...

 

The librarian seemed to ponder the problem for a minute. It would be simpler if the person himself could go to another library himself and bother someone else but it didn’t seem to be an option from what the pregnant woman was telling her. Too much time on his hand... Coming here himself... Doing it himself!

 

“It sound like he need to have another hobby. Have you considered the art and craft section or maybe the ‘How to do it yourself series...” she said, leading Liz toward another section of the library.

 

The ball was dropped, now we look to see what pin will fall.

 

 

              


	4. Cold War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hellboy doesn't belong to us 
> 
> Rating: Teen and up ... just because...
> 
> Oh! And before I forget, this is “talking”, this is 'thinking'. Have a pleasant read.

 

Hellboy – A place to belong side-stories

Crazy Abe Hobbies

Chapter Three

 

 

**'Tomorrow . . . perhaps the weaponry will be just words. The most words, the quickest words, the last words.'**

**(The Truth by Terry Pratchett)**

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

**Cold war**

**Or**

**“I was in the bathroom earlier but I couldn’t finish because,**

**SOMEONE, had already done the crosswords!’’**

The British Gazette Publisher - London - bureau of George Langway – Director.

 

A man with gray sideburns and not much else in matter of hair was nursing a cooling cup of tea and a growing headache. You see the man was the director of three different journals and just came out of a rather tedious board meeting earlier.

 

There, a strange subject got approached and the board was asked to manage an unusual situation that crept its way to the upper echelon, when in his opinion it should have been dealt by someone lower on ladder a lot earlier.

 

It wasn’t because a reporter made a shocking article and they were asked by someone in high places to remove said article...

 

Oh no, that would be too simple.

 

Nor it was an error, a public faux pas that someone got shocked over or some false information that got included in the news and that now they had to give public excuses.

 

That they knew how to deal with, unfortunate as it is.

 

No, the problem rose from the most improbable place of all: The puzzle and crossword section.

 

Nope, it couldn’t just have come from the political caricature someone took offence from, nope, it had to come from the game and puzzle section. If somebody asked him from where one managing a newspaper where they should expect problem to come from, his answer would be everywhere but the puzzle and crossword section.

 

How could have thing degenerated to this point he had no idea.

 

HBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBH

**But I do!**

HBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBH

 

You need to step back a few months, somewhere in the now familiar familial home of our phenomenal family, you could see the our trio sitting at the table each morning, eating what Britain had best in matter of traditional breakfast.

 

‘’Ack! This is disgusting... No wonder people say people in England have the worst sense of taste in the world.’’ Said Hellboy, reaching for his coffee to wash the taste.

 

It was part of a series of group experiments to integrate better in the new culture surrounding them. With varying degree of success.

 

Liz agreed whole heartedly, disgusted at the horrible meal they had cooked, the morning sickness where better than this.

 

And Abe... wasn’t paying them any attention. Hunched over the folded paper on the small table, a pen in one hand, the other bringing gruel to his mouth almost mechanically. He was so focused on his task that his companion doubted he even tasted what he was eating, crunching and munching away like a machine, making crumb everywhere. Maybe it was for the better, seeing the taste...

 

Such eating habit were normally unthinkable where Abe was concerned being someone both polite to a fault and possessing an _etiquette_ so rigid that you could bend tire iron around it. But it had become a quite frequent sight in the household. In fact, it happened when ever the received the various newspaper they were members off.

 

The group liked to stay in touch with the world, because with a trio like them you never knew when a major catastrophe would rear its ugly head, and if not careful, they could get implicated, exactly what they were trying to avoid.

 

But for the book starved Abe, the papers were drop of rain in the desert and while he originally skipped the crossword and puzzle section, himself admitting the usual brain twister wasn’t his cup of tea, he found himself that crossword and Sudoku were right up his alley and he could complete them quite easily.

 

The light challenges became a much appreciated distraction, and since he began, completed every one of those he came... across( **word** ).

 

It caused some tension between him and Hellboy at first, the later usually used them a as mean to relax when he... had a big job to do... you know... sitting on the can? Well, without the paper let’s say the captain had trouble adding a new log to the journal? The ancestral art of Bronze melting?

 

Anyway, the issue was resolved quite easily by buying a crossword book exclusive for the loo.

 

A second book was needed right after and a newly elected household rule stipulated Abe was prohibited to touch that one.

 

And that could have been the end of it. But you see, a lot of those crosswords had small contest organised by the paper, and a prize could be won if you completed them. Just what he did.

 

He sent back all of puzzle he completed, filled all the form under the pseudonym, A. B. Sapien, and soon enough, prizes of all kind, trinkets, freebee and letter of congratulation began flowing back. A small rumor in the world of newspaper and crossword enthusiasts began that a mysterious literature professor of the genius kind, was trying to beat every crossword master around the world.

 

And it could have stayed as that, a small rumor amongst a small circle and not raise any more waves that that.

 

But as mentioned before, Abe was a fishman of politeness, _etiquette_ and quite bored out of his skull. So every time he sent back one of the puzzles solutions, he added a personal letter, talking about the puzzles in question, giving his opinion on it, criticisms and even pointed the smallest error he could spot in them whenever it was a historical reference gotten wrong or an orthographic one.

 

A lot of the paper wrote back, thanking him for the attention he gave to their paper, blablabla, etc, etc and etc. If only it could have stopped there...

 

For you see a lot of those papers used a computer program to make those crosswords and sudoku but some of them still employed people to manually make the brainwreakers. One in particular, a certain... Let’s call her Miss Wordsmith, the pseudonym she is using when publishing her work. She was a professional crossword maker, a freelancer that had her work published in one of the newspaper our trio were registered with.

 

She was retired university career woman that took on the job as a hobby to pass the time, but soon began to take pride in her work. The papers liked her; she was churning out the puzzles at the same rhythm that of a machine, her puzzles were fun, intuitive, interesting and damn hard to do. In fact none ever managed to complete one of her homemade crossword before, a source of misplaced pride for the woman.

 

And this is why Abe began crosswords at all. You see, as he was browsing through the papers he was going to turn the pages over the next section without even really looking at it when his eyes caught the definition of a rare and particular procedure used in embalming, something really technical that he doubted many people knew off. Intrigued he read another definition, another riddle, mentally filling the blank cases of the crossword, one after another, got sucked into it, picked up of pen and completed it.

 

Because from what he gathered, whoever wrote this, was arrogant, a sadist, a shrewd and revealed in showing off his knowledge in front of others to indulge a sense of superiority over them. (He wasn’t that far off the mark to tell the truth.) And the very act of beating the crossword was like beating the one who created it in person, something he found really satisfying. He quite disliked that type of personality.

 

Also he realised he appreciated the mental challenge and this is what hooked him to trying the various puzzles in the papers.

 

And thus, at the journal headquarter the responsible for the mail received the solved crossword and the letter from Abe, passed it to the department responsible to treat the answer for the contest, there, to their great surprise, someone apparently did manage to complete the quite difficult thing and finally breaking the undefeated record of Miss Wordsmith.

 

It astonished the worker of the department but they brushed it off, it was bound to happen eventually even if the reputation of having an unsolvable crossword was a boon to their group. The bi-weekly prise was sent, a 50% coupon at a music store, along with a congratulation letter, with his name mentioned in the next issue as the winner.

 

But the letter from Abe wasn’t opened.

 

Since the chief of the department came to see what the commotion was, he was equally surprised that someone managed to beat Miss Wordsmith crossword, was mentioned about the letter that was joined with the answer sheet. Normally he wouldn’t be the one to address such thing but the letter, while it had the journal address, was addressed to the creator of the crossword, whom he knew personally.

 

He was the one who introduced her to this company and thought it would be a fun thing that she could read what someone who finally beaten her at her own game would have to say to her.

 

So, he took the letter and made sure Miss Wordsmith received the new of her unexpected defeat as well as the letter.

 

Maybe he should have read the letter before giving it to her.

 

She was such a prideful person. Already that someone had managed to complete the thing made her... cross with the people around her for a week; the letter turned the blade in the wound. Oh, the letter was polite, sophisticated and gallant, with nothing that was said out of place ... in all the wrong way to the wrong person.

 

Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.

 

But the department chief did not hear any of that, but when the journal received her next submission for the bi-weekly crossword, he found it particularly hard, even more so than usual. He chuckled at the situation, finding her sore loser attitude amusing. He gave his approval and the crossword was published.

 

They received it back three days after, completed to a T, along with all the other puzzles in the section, with all the answer written in the same neat handwriting.

 

“Wow” made the department head, that did not happen often. In fact that never happened. Ever. They felt as if they were a casino that got conned out of their money. So they double checked everything, found nothing wrong or anything that could indicate cheating, scratched their head, packed the prizes and sent them with another congratulation letter. This time, it was a coupon set for an electronic stores.

 

Talking about letter. There was one from A. B. Sapien again for the creator of the crossword. When the chief was mentioned that, he just said to forward it to Miss Wordsmith, again not reading it. He had other thing to worry about, like explaining to his boss that someone really did win all of the contest and he wasn’t pulling some sort of scam.

 

How did Miss Wordsmith react when she read it? Angry.

 

How angry?

 

There was a disturbance in the Force. Yoda felt it.

 

That much.

 

And it continued like that for a while and a phenomenon began to appear. It wasn’t just this particular journal that received a bundle with all the answer to the all the quiz’s. Quite a lot of the concurrence began to be assaulted by this mysterious assailant. Each weeks and each months, more and more company were brought to the fray. After a while, even the international ones were affected. Language didn’t seem to be a barrier to this steamroller.

 

After two issues, it’s just a stunt.

 

After three, it’s frustrating.

 

After four, you think it’s a prank.

 

After five, it’s vexing. There as to be a trick.

 

After seven, it’s someone conning you.

 

After nine, you began to get angry and shout.

 

After eleven, you’re almost afraid.

 

After fifteen, it’s began to dawn onto you

 

After... After twenty, you’re in awe. It’s like a train wreck you can’t tear your eyes of it.

 

After twenty-two, you watch the legend unfold before your eyes.

 

After twenty-four, it’s something you will tell your grand kids about.

 

At twenty-five: you realised that you should have banned that guy ages ago, but due to your pride or simply because you are stubborn as an ass, you refused to give up.

 

After twenty-seven, it’s worldwide now. The mystery crossword buster is tackling the pros and the champs. Nothing seems to stop him...

 

After thirty, you have abdicated in front of the conqueror. Everywhere now bowed to the master.

 

Everywhere? No a small English paper of irreducible journalist refused to ply the knee and resisted to the invader. Yes, it was the very same paper that started it all.

 

HBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBH

 

The head of the department at the newspaper did not knew what a hostile take-over looked like, but if he had too, he could probably describe what Miss Wordsmith had done to the two page and a half that were the crossword and puzzle section of the paper.

 

At first it was only limited to her, as she made the crossword more and more difficult. Every tricks in the books where probably used. Different languages, the most obscures of references, anachronism, making your own definitions for the words, using some of the most technical and rare term possible, mathematical formula, science, … Frankly, the amount of research put into the grids each week was astonishing but it wasn’t enough.

 

Then began the Escalation.

 

Like a small country being invaded that realised that she could not win by herself, she swallowed her pride and called for her allies. Old university friends and other professors that owned her favors… Collegues from other papers that were as vexed by the fact that some upstart was beating their work with a spiked croquet bat.

 

But still the assault from the enemy was relentless, so she broadens her horizon. It wasn’t just the crosswords that were being defeated but all the other in the same category. So began to email, call and made personal visits to the Newspaper bureau to make contacts with those like her who were bullied by A. B. Sapien.

 

Subtly and without the head of the department realising, slithered like a boa constrictor inside the newspaper department and began to choke the control out of his grasp. She talked, made friends, supported, flattered, menaced, threatened, bribed and black mailed. She presented her ideas subtlety, made them think it came from them, soon after wards, a secret guild was formed.

 

The difficulty of all the challenges offered in the paper skyrocketed. Everyone began to pull all the stops to make it impossible to complete the crosswords and puzzles.

 

Still. Not. Enough.

 

They began to include more and more people in their group, even external help, expert and genius alike. They began to coordinate their efforts: Some of the answer for one puzzle was hidden in the answer of another’s; some of the answers were disseminated amongst the rest of the articles. They were a logogriph within enigma upon layers of mysteries warped with codes.

 

The teensiest details could become a clue.

 

The most minuscule of typos were planned to confuse.

 

As the weeks passed, the hidden groups began to gain more pull within the company and reform to the papers began to happen. Freer rein on the contents, one more pages for the section, new type of puzzles and variant were introduced, etc.

 

Binero, Sudoku, Sudoku on the half shell, Kakuro, Mystery words, riddles, Chess, Go, Shogi and Xiangqi simulation. All types of brain twister were tried.

 

Even the political caricature, the astrology section and the ‘Find the 7 differences’ games were manhandled on board.

 

The level of difficulty had reached an all-time high!

 

Dan Brown check-it out and wept, his Da Vinci Code being a mere preschool charade in comparison.

 

And behind all this was the mastermind, Miss Wordsmith, who despite not working for the journal had a say of what goes in it.

 

There was repercussion of course; other readers began to complain that it was impossible to complete, that it wasn’t fun anymore, that if they wanted something so difficult they would go to a specialized magazine.

 

And within the company, discontent was being felt. The other department weren’t too happy being pushed around and those within the faction trying to take down A.B. Sapien were beginning to stress with all the work they were doing, their attitude and relation with their coworkers was beginning to be a LITTLE tense.

 

Our poor head of the department tried to intervene before open war within the company started but his attempt at mediation failed miserably. When he suggested to simply banishing the guy responsible for all this… If looks could kill.

 

He tried to reason with Miss Wordsmith but her only response was a citation: _“La seule réponse que je ferai à votre general viendra de la bouche de mes canons!”_

 

He had to Google it to find the reference. It was NOT good. Taken into context, it meant that she was ready to go down and drag the paper with her.

 

They were too stuck in the idea, entrapped within the feeling of revenge, believing whatever hype Miss Wordsmith was feeding them. The group had too much momentum and if he tried to oppose the wave rather than ride it, he would be washed away. He tried to reach for his superiors, but somebody was using the system against him, blocking his attempts and thwarting his efforts.

 

He realised he was against some really intelligent people for who’s a war was just another game of factors, causalities being one of them. It was giving him an ulcer.

 

Just who was this guy to cause him so much trouble!

 

HBHBHBHBBHHBHBHBBHHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHB

 

Abe was in front of the oven humming a cherry tune, wearing a silly apron that said ‘Do noting to the cook’ complemented by the pink bunny slippers, pulling out a batch of muffin. He decided to try this new idea he had from that book he read on fusion cooking. He knew he could count on Liz and Hellboy to give him an honest opinion.

 

Hellboy and Liz on the other hands were outside, trying to find newbie paparazzi that often sniffed around the cottage that would not suspect too much why he would be invited inside for tea. The usual ones knew to make themselves scares when the fishman was baking. A few of them had taken the bait and followed them inside in hope for an exclusive scoop and left on a stretcher because of food poisoning.  

 

After all, we are talking about someone who thinks rotten thousand year eggs were the very submits of delectable flavors…

 

HBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHB

 

And the puzzle war continued…

 

HBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHBHB

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bookeater:
> 
> Wow that chapter took a long time to write. It wasn’t even supposed to be sectioned like that. I just can’t find a good finish for this story -_-‘. But good news, chapter number 4 is already done (but it’s so short! It’s so not like me…) and will be out shortly. 
> 
> I will work on other chapters and maybe one day I will have inspiration. Don’t forget to check my new story: Truth Serum Interview. I need feedback and questions from you readers to ask Hellboy to be able to continue the story. 
> 
> But the next thing on the work bench will be the final chapter for ‘A place to belong’. The chapter is already half completed. I will try to power through the writer block this time.
> 
>  
> 
> Shiroyuki : … bare with me a second while I wipe my eyes …
> 
> It is done, marvellous now I can see again … while we are use by now to Book particular brand of humour, but every now and then he does surprise us. In more than one instance he had me laughing to tear.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the read and we’ll see you next chapter *^_^*


	5. The Rubik’s cube - Part two

Hellboy – A place to belong side-stories

Crazy Abe Hobbies

Chapter four

**I don’t worry about voices in my head. I am not listening to them anyway.**

**(Abraham ‘Abe’ Sapien)**

 

* * *

 

 

Boredom (bore∙dom): The condition of being bored; ennui; tedium

See also: Dullness

 

 

This was the very definition of Abe existence.

 

The internet was down. Not surprising, the modem connection here was beyond sucky.

 

Once again he had nothing more to read.

 

He had already done all the martial art training he could take for the day.

 

Hellboy and Liz were taking a nap.

 

The weather was too bad for continuing their game of Croquet. For Hellboy anyway, the rain didn’t bother him at all. He was winning even if Hellboy wouldn’t admit it until the very end. They had put the last can of beer as the prise after all and they would have to wait until next week for the groceries. The English beer taste was beginning to grow on him even if he was still making an ass of himself every time he drank.

 

He was out of pink yarn for the babies’ onesie he was knitting for the oncoming little ones and had to wait for the next time Liz will go into town. He believed it was coming along nicely.

 

The sea was a bit too agitated for a swim and without the BPRD missions and problems to distract himself, he was feeling the call of the Depth stronger each days. Something that he hadn’t told Hellboy and Liz to not worry them too much. Because he was also worrying about it…

 

Maybe he could write that next campaign of Call of Cthulhu… It’s always a good way to rehash the past for them, and they were always a good laughs. But he didn’t feel like it…

 

As Abe was walking toward the kitchen to brew himself a cup of Earl Grey (he was feeling himself becoming English by the days, he swears…) he sat IT.

 

Sitting on top of a bunch of bills that needed to be paid, as an improvised paper weight it taunted him. Abe could hear in is mind; the sniggering of this infernal contraption and the insult its very existence caused him.

 

Abe wanted to scream at its littles red square, smash the blue ones, put the green one in the toilet, draw crude image on the whites, the yellow would find their place in the fire pits, the orange… lets not talk about the f*cking orange OK!?

 

‘Inhale’, ‘exhale’.

 

‘Inhale’, ‘exhale’.

 

‘Ok Abe,’ he told himself. ‘It’s just a toy. It not doing anything, It’s not doing anything. Get a grip man.’

 

‘Inhale’, ‘exhale’.

 

Let’s find something to do! Maybe he could give it a try with the pogo-stick again? This time he could aim for the Guinness record!

 

And the rubic cube continued to sit on the table.

 

DUN DUN DUUUUNNNNNN!!

 


	6. Renovating the house, Part 1: Painting and Plumbing

 

Hellboy – A place to belong side-stories

Crazy Abe Hobbies

Chapter five

**Here’s one for you: How many people does it take to change a light bulb? Three: A deamon, a fishman and a pregnant woman.**

**“It was very much a supernatural house that contained supernatural being. If you follow the common law of physic that house should not be standing. Or have NOT exploded. No construction of man could withstand that much abuse and still exist. And we were trying to repair it! Paranormal investigator we are. Handyman very much not.”**

**About the cottage by Johann Krauss**

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Renovating the house

 

Part 1: Painting and Plumbing

 

 

The sea side cottage was old, that was evident. It wasn’t far from the original plan of finding a house with a big yard and the sea next to it was a nice bonus. Staying England wasn’t originally in the plan but since the little family installed themselves in the house it was evident that if they wanted to live here, some repairs and upgrades were in order.

 

Liz wanted to hire professionals for the renovation but Hellboy dissuaded her. He joked around: what guys were for if not changing the cupboards, eh? He assured her that it wouldn’t take long and how hard could it be? Liz was sceptical but let it go since it seemed to matter for her beau… She had a look in her eyes that said she was ready to drop the ‘I told you so’ at a moment notice.

 

Neither Abe or Krauss who was with them at the beginning gave it any comment. Everyone had helped with the “Great Cleansing” and saw that was a lot of work to be done. And yes the capital letter and quotation marks are justified. Nobody had lived there for year and the filth was incrusted e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.

 

It took a lot of elbow grease and cleaning products so strong that Hellboy said some of his skin washed-off pink. But that was the fume talking. And as they progressed, some of the furniture had to be written off and they had to get new one, light bulbs and sockets to be changed, the walls in needed a new coat of paint and the pluming seemed to be alive.

 

And that was without all the addition they would need to accommodate two new kids, a seven foot giant, a fishman, a fires tarter of a mom and a mass of ectoplasm… man no wonder Krauss skedaddle out of there soon after… but Hellboy was confident he could do it.

 

Installing a water tank/bed for Abe in his room was simple enough once it had been delivered from the bureau. Apparently, he owned that small model and the Bureau had to send it to him at his request. They used a garden hose connected from a tap outside through the window for alimenting it and a similar principle for the evacuation where the water was simply directed to the seaside cliff.

 

Encouraged by this first success Hellboy got onto the first project. Abe and Liz were still on cleaning duty but Hellboy immediately hopped on painting a room once it was done. How hard could it be? The ‘puke green’ wallpaper had to go.

 

 

Step one: Choosing the colors.

 

What expression could be used to describe this…? Too many cook spoil the soup? Botticelli and Monet would turn over in their tombs? The equivalent of a Monopoly argument times ten? Bringing a pregnant woman to an argument is an unfair advantage? Ugly Rainbow wartime?

 

It would be too long to explain.

 

 

Step two: Chaos theory 101.

 

Well… after the nightmare of deciding what color the different rooms should be Hellboy began to paint without ever having done so nor had any interest in such enterprise in his life.

 

“Doesn’t this paint look a little thin to you?”,

 

“Ack pwark poiwt arrrgk, bleh, sh*t it’s in my eyes!”

 

 “Why would have I peeled of the old paint first?”

 

 “The more the better, no?”

 

 “Damn it! How many layer before we’ll stop seeing that damn color under it?... Primer? What does a bullet have to do with this?”

 

 “Oh, so that what the tape was for! Whoops…”

 

 “Well, we wanted to get rid of the carpet anyway, no?”

 

“Sorry Krauss! So sorry!... I’m sure it’ll wash off.”

 

“Liz! Please calm down! Turpentine is REALLY flammable!”

 

 

Step three: Looking at a ‘How to do it’ video on You Tube.

 

“… Ah… I see what I did wrong… “

 

 

Step four: Second tries.

 

“I now understand why people say they will keep old underwear just with the purpose of painting.”

 

“Ok, it would have been really nice to know BEFORE that we could preserve the roller by putting them in the freezer overnight. *Sigh* I’ll go buy new one.”

 

“No Liz, plaster is not supposed to come off like that. What did I do? I probably gave it a cross look and it decided to jump at my face just to spite me. But ask yourself: Do we really need that wall? It would give us so much more place in the living room.”

 

“What do you mean this one was supposed to be blue? We clearly agreed that room was going to be green and the next one would be blue. Yes we did! No we talked about it. Yes we did… Abe tell her I’m right. Abe? Abe! Don’t you run you coward!”

 

 

Step five: Take a beer and look at the end results

 

All of them looked like they partook in the paintball battle to end all paintball battle but they had done it. The beer tasted good even if the British brand wasn’t up to Hellboy refined American taste (Liz being pregnant did not drink, Abe swore of beer after the last time and Johann wished he could still taste it) but finishing that first step felt really good and they all agreed that they will not change colors for any reason for the next twenty year.

 

“So what next on the list?” He asked optimist after that mitigated success.

 

“We really need to fix the shower. The pipe rattle something fierce and I spotted some leaks…”

 

“Ok so pluming is next, no prob, I think the guy who did that video made several about that.”

 

Johann was really silent since mentioning the plumbing problems, the fume making his body was tumultuous in his suits. He seemed to be cogitating hard, like something really important was on the edge of his mind and all the sudden he shook with a tremor like he was struck from the inside.

 

“Humm”, he called for the attention of the other dread in his voice, “I hope we will not have to tear down any wall to make those repair.”

 

And after consulting an expert, they had to tear down one quarter of the wall…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiroyuki :  
> Book got inspired by my own reno ... While they were a few hiccups it was nothing compare to those mishap


End file.
